A Wonderful Night at the Palace
by BlueEyes2010
Summary: Alanna, still a squire, is given the opportunity to be a lady for the night at a palace function, silk gown and gold slippers included. Who will she meet there, and will being a lady be as much fun as it looks? A/G
1. Chapter 1

George could not help but grimace whenever Jonathan's eyes and hands began to wander over the various court ladies that encircled the Prince from the moment he entered a room. In his various disguises at palace functions over the years as a waiter, a priest, a footman, or even the otherwise enjoyable evening he had spent as a jester, George had never seen how the Prince could get away with his constant womanizing. Did these delicate flowers not realize that in the eyes of their perfect prince they were nothing more than a conquest-in-waiting? Jonathan never suffered any ill will, either, from his less than pure nights. Most of the young woman were too thrilled having been bedded by the prince and would spend the next fortnight waiting to be summoned back to his chambers. More often than not the summon never came and the girl would leave court a few moons later, her reputation ruined and her value as a bride severely diminished.

George shook his head and turned away, he couldn't bare to watch another lady go down that path. In his disguise tonight as a wealthy merchant from the north, George casually strolled around the glittering hall. Truly the servants had outdone themselves tonight. The Hall glittered with what seemed like thousands of candles. Delicious red wine was flowing freely, and the normally stuffy Hall was kept cool night by the wide doors to the courtyard catching the early fall breeze. Truly, it was a wonderful night to be at the palace.

"What an awful night to be stuck at the palace!" Alanna bitterly exclaimed to Faithful. "The weather is fabulous, the party is lively, and gold to bronze Jon will be bringing back some blonde hussy and spend the night making the best with two backs!" Alanna angrily tossed her brush on her bed. Today had not been a good day. Moonlight had thrown a shoe and so she had spent the day on a mean old warhorse that had promptly stepped on her foot the moment she dismounted. As a result she had had an awful afternoon with archery, the throbbing pain from her foot keeping her from concentrating. To make the day even worse, after she had finally gotten back to her quarters, bathed, put some healing on her foot, and picked up a book to get ready for a cozy night reading by the fire, stupid Jon had come practically skipping to proclaim that there was going to be a most fabulous ball tonight and that she had to attend, she simply had to. "What a toe rag! I am hardly being productive at a stupid ball dancing with mindless women two feet taller than me using me just to get to Jon so I can later hear them banging against the wall later that night. One day he'll encounter a girl who gives him what he deserves, and I only hope that I'm there to see it!"

Faithful looked up from the rug in front of the fire. _If you are so upset about going to this silly ball why don't you just stay here? Who is going to notice another royal squire in a room full of pages and squires?_

"Because Jon commanded me-" Alanna paused. Then, a slight grin began to spread across her face.

_Alanna,_ faithful looked up, _whatever you're thinking, don't._

"He only said I had to go. He didn't say I had to go as his squire." With that she began to clear the blankets off of the chest that sat at the foot of her bed protected not only by several locks, but also by some rather nasty spells she had found in one of George's books. From the wooden chest she pulled a delicate green gown. The gown was new; one George had bought her for midsummer, but one that she had not yet had the opportunity to wear. It didn't feel right, somehow, wearing a gown George had given her when she was going to be dancing with Jon, and the luscious silk would simply never fit in at the Dancing Dove. Still, there was no way she was going to be dancing with Jon tonight, and as much as she had wanted to wear the gown where George would see it, the idea of the smooth green silk and matching slippers was just too much. Not to mention the best thing about the gown. George had had a silk headpiece made to match. Arching over her head and covered in gold beads, the green cap and golden veil hid her flaming red hair. With a few touches of magic she could easily make her eyebrows brown and her eyes blue. These simple changes would more than disguise her. No one would think to look for Squire Alan in the pretty court lady that this outfit would transformer her in to.

Faithful sighed. _Just be careful. I'm too comfortable here to want to follow you, though I probably should._

"Oh, hush, I'm not going to get caught. Jonathan is the only person there who will have seen me in a dress. No one is going to suspect, and if anything they can just think I'm some country bumpkin who spends her summers behind a plow and so walks like a ox." Every moment she loved the plan more and more. She would go to the ball, all right, but for once she was going to have a good time!

For George the evening was beginning to grow dull. Perhaps he should have come as a priest, if only to allow himself some moments of peace. He could hardly remember what had even made him want to come to the palace tonight in the first place. Something about asking a fur merchant how productive his recent trades had been in order to see whether his ware houses were worth robbing, but the man had not shone, and judging by the smug looks on the other fur traders faces, George was fairly confident that his particular merchant had not had as good a year as Light Fingers had suggested he had. Just as he was getting read to call the night a complete failure, his sensitive ears happened to catch the seemingly most trivial piece of conversation. Why he happened to catch these words, when they sounded so much like every other piece of conversation tonight, he did not know. But as he walked past two palace servants their words made him pause.

"Oh yes, my sister's cousin says she knows the man who makes those gowns, Paul Boryan. He is a dressmaker is Port Caynn, and his gowns are ever so fabulous! She must be from Port Caynn to have such a gown."

George stopped. He knew this Paul Boryan, he had paid the man's shop a visit last time he had been in Port Caynn. It had been over the summer, he had been in the area to speak with the local thieves and had happened to pass the man's shop window and had seen the most delicate gold and green slippers. Oddly curious, George was not one to frequent female dressmaker's shops, the thief could not help but take notice of the small slippers. His curiosity got the better of him and next thing he knew the poor shopkeeper was complaining that he had spent weeks on the shoes, but that the merchant who was going to buy them had given him the wrong measurements and they were now too small for the lady they had been made for, and weren't selling due to their size. George did not really care about the shoes one way or another, but the bolts of silk that lined the room were hardly something a trained thief could mistake for anything but the finest silk money could buy. It seemed like almost a crime, to see such fine fabric sitting almost forgotten around the shop. He would have loved to see what the maker of such delicate slippers could do with such fabric, but who did he have to buy clothes for? Much as he loved his mother, she was hardly the silk type, and there were no other females in his life he cared enough about to want to spend so much money on.

Except Alanna, a small voice said. George grinned; she would look beautiful in such fabric. He knew how she spoke about the court ladies and their finery. While to her fellow squires she might not appear to have even noticed that they were wearing clothes, to George's trained ear he could hear the hidden desire. He knew Alanna liked to wear pretty things, hadn't he been there the first time she served tea at his mother's house? And suddenly, without really thinking about it, George was giving the shopkeeper her measurements as best he could approximate. George determined that he would let the muse inspire the dressmaker and only requested that the gown be green and gold, to match the slippers, and that it come with a veil that would cover Alanna's flaming locks. While he doubted she would ever actually wear the gown in court, something made him want to give her the option.

"Excuse me," he flashed the serving girls a small smile, "I couldn't help but over hear you talking about Paul Boryan. I am such a fan of his," George gushed, putting a slight emphasis on such and shifting his weight ever so slightly and effeminately to the right. "Is there someone here tonight wearing him?"

The taller girl nodded. "The brunette, by the bottom of the stairs. She's pretty enough in the gown, who wouldn't be, but she walks like a man."

George nodded. He did not like the way the girl had described 'the brunette,' for Alanna was certainly more than 'pretty enough,' but walking like man would aptly describe a girl who had hidden her sex for the last seven years. Still doubtful, George began to slowly make his was to the staircase. While the lady in question was mostly likely not Alanna, something made him want to double check.

Alanna had quietly entered the hall through a servant's door shortly before the two maids who had distracted George with their conversation had begun talking. She had successfully changed her eye color to a light blue and was feeling quite beautiful. The dress fit like a dream, hugging her thin waist and flaring out to cover her small feet. The gold veil seemed to float above her hair, and, she admitted shyly to herself, the dress did flatter her unbound chest rather well. True, she had yet to manage the gentle gliding walk of a true court lady, but she hardly thought that one mistake would uncover her whole disguise. With a smile she confidently stepped out of the shadow of a hanging tapestry and made her way towards the grand staircase. She had no reason to be uncomfortable here! The palace was her home, she was a noble lady, and by the goddess she had every right to enjoy this evening.

The room truly was beautifully decorated, and the wine she picked up from a passing server sweet and chilled. _I've never been to one of these when I wasn't serving or being forced to dance with Jon's admirers. And the last time I wore a dress out…_ her thoughts trailed off. Despite her best efforts it seemed like Jon would still ruin the evening. Of course she would think of him while wearing a dress in the palace, after he had made so many crude remarks after seeing her at Mistress Cooper's serving tea. It seemed Jon was even determined to invade her thoughts and ruin her evening without even being there.

"Why the long face?" A warm voice broke her chain of negative thoughts. She looked up.

"George?" Alanna gasped. She had never seen the thief so finely dressed. The studded brown leather jerkin and white shirt gave the thief a rather debonair look, something Alanna was not used to, but had to admit she liked. George was always well dress, yes, but he generally gave off a rather ruffled appearance, like he had just spent the hour before in a back alley scuffle, which he probably had.

George could not help to stare at Alanna as soon as he spotted her from across the room. Despite the changes to her appearance, he was not fooled. For him nothing could mask the familiar play of emotions he saw acting out on her face. First almost shy, then sudden confidence, then, to his dismay, a sorrowful frown, which quickly turned into a grimace of disgust. His eyes immediately shot across the room to where he knew Jon to be, thinking perhaps Alanna had seen him with his latest conquest. He knew how Alanna felt about Jon's cavalier attitude towards women. To his relief, Jon remained hidden from view. Why the grimace then? George drew closer. "Why the long face?"

Alanna's head shot up, her eyes widening as she seemed to take him in. "George?"

The thief smiled. "You look beautiful." She did. The dress fit her beautifully. He had seen her in skirts before, but never in a true gown. And her face paint, delicately accenting her best features without overwhelming her face, only served to make her lovelier.

"You're just saying that. Thank you for the dress, I had hoped you would be there the first time I wore it." Alanna paused. "George, why are you here? The Provost does know what you look like!" She suddenly tried to pull him behind the tapestry while the thief just laughed.

"I'm fine, lass," he whispered, "I didn't know you cared."

"Don't be silly, George. So, why are you here?

"Lass, can't you for one night stop trying to protect me and just relax?" He extended his right hand. "I'm here to dance with a pretty lady, if she'll accept."

Alanna put her head down a grinned. She worried for George, but the thief always did make her smile. "I would be delighted."


	2. Chapter 2

"Lass, can't you for one night stop trying to protect me and just relax?" He extended his right hand. "I'm here to dance with a pretty lady, if she'll accept."

Alanna put her head down and grinned. She worried for George, but the thief always did make her smile. "I would be delighted."

George swept Alanna out onto the dance floor. Immediately years of dance lessons from a male perspective had her stepping of George's feet. "Well, that's not quite as romantic as I had hoped," Alanna whispered and tried to step back off the dance floor.

George chuckled, "Lass, I know it goes against your grain, but just follow my lead, you'll be fine." Still hesitating, Alanna stepped back into the dance, allowing her voluminous skirts to hide her somewhat clumsy steps. Even as smooth a dancer as George could not make her body forget the page's strict dance instructor. A wooden hit to the back of one's calves whenever a page missed a step tended to make the lessons stick. Even so, after a few more dances Alanna began to relax and allowed herself to pretend that she belonged in these beautiful green skirts and face paint. Never did she regret her decision to try for her knighthood, but with George's arms around her and with the eyes of several dozen men following her around the dance floor, it was a little hard not to wish that she could do this more often.

Suddenly George stiffened, bringing Alanna back to the moment. Before she could ask what had happened she glanced over her shoulder and her eyes widened in horror. As Jon made his was across the dance floor toward her she knew that only George's somewhat tight grip on her hand and waist kept her from bolting out the door. She looked up at George, her eyes pleading, trying to convey in the few seconds before Jon arrived that she had to get out of the ballroom immediately. George gave the slightest negative nod and stepped back, bowing as Jon stopped next to the two dancers, "Your Highness."

Jon's eyes widened as he identified the finely dress "merchant" in his palace. "Sir," he nodded, "I have not seen you at court in some time, I cannot help but wonder what brings you here." He turned unrecognizing to Alanna, "And my lady, I do not believe that I have seen you in court either." He bowed, "May I have this dance?" It was not the place of any merchant to refuse a prince, and George, maintaining his façade, stepped aside.

Alanna stood rooted to the floor in shock. George, her oldest friend and staunchest ally was abandoning her in her greatest time of need. Alanna would rather take on Duke Rodger and two armies than dance with Jon, especially as he looked at her with those hungry eyes. She had seen the look before, and the sick feeling it gave to her stomach when he gave it to the ladies he knew he was going to later tumble into bed with was nothing compared to the cold, nauseous feeling she felt now. Only the knowledge that Jon would be the type to chase her if she ran kept her standing in front of the Prince. "My lady?" George nudged her, alerting her to the fact that other dancers and the prince were staring at her panicked silence. _It can't be any worse than dancing with some of his tramps, I suppose, and I have to do that practically every week. _She suddenly shook herself out of her funk, she was no coward! She would dance with Jon, one dance, and then return to dance with George where she would precede to stomp on his feet.

George could not believe his bad luck. As soon as he had seen Jon from across the room he knew that the Prince would be curious about Alanna. The Prince always liked to keep tabs on who the new ladies at court were. As much as it disgusted him, George knew he could not refuse the Prince without raising a scene, something that could be quite dangerous for Alanna. All logic aside, though, it required more will power than George knew he had to step back and let Jon take Alanna away.

Alanna bit her lip as Jon began to whirl her around the floor. She knew her voice would give her away if she spoke to Jon, so he demurely kept her eyes down and hoped that the Prince would spend the entire dance looking down her, admittedly small, breast. Alas, tonight was not her night.

"Does a lovely lady have a lovely name?" Jon inquired.

Knowing a simple nod could not get her out of the situation, Alanna whispered, "Geraldine, Your Highess." Alanna shook her head, of all the names to come up with, why in the world had she picked one so memorable, Geraldine was hardly a common name.

Jon made an polite comment and, thankfully for Alanna, stopped his questions with that, content to admire the form of the young woman in his arms with eyes and hands instead of continuing the conversation.

Standing next to a marble pillar George politely refused a glass of wine from a passing page just as Jon's hands began to wander. Filled with a feeling of anger and disgust, George took the offered wine and set of across the floor. Prince or no, Jon had no right to treat any lady, especially Alanna, so crudely. Stopping next to the dancers he tapped Jon on the back and offered him the glass of wine. "I would like to ask the lady for a dance, Highness."

Jon looked at George with fury; no one interrupted him in the middle of a conquest! "Excuse me, sir, but I think you forget yourself."

"It is not I who am forgetting myself, Highness. I am the lady's escort; it is only proper that I spend the evening with her. Furthermore, she is a lady, not a bar wench and deserves to be treated as such!"

Alanna could not believe George's audacity. Surly someone would overhear him challenging the Prince.

Jon stepped close to Geroge, hissing so that those around him would not hear. "What does it matter to you, thief, who I dance with? You certainly didn't come here with some noble lady, and the Dove is a little far for you to be bringing this court jewel home to!"

"Maybe this once I don't want to see some poor lady lured into you chamber. Think of what your squire has to put up with night after night, give her a break for once!"

"What does it matter to you what my squire over hears? Besides, how do you know she is overhearing and not participating!"

Alanna gasped in fury as she heard the Prince's last comment. While she and Jon had certainly flirted over the months since he made her his squire, they had hardly advanced passed coy comments. As hard as it was to admit to herself, it was a little difficult to think of Jon as anything more than a friend when she spent practically every other evening in the company of a certain charming thief. As uncomfortable as George's flirting could make her, she knew in her heart that the thief sincerely cared for and perhaps loved her. With Jon she always got the impression that despite his assurances otherwise, she was just an easy conquest waiting to happen, made more desirable by her close proximity.

Alanna looked at George to see his reaction, she knew the thief suspected she and Jon were more involved than she let on, but she hoped the thief would not put any thought to Jon's comment. What she saw in his eyes caused her heart to quench in pain. The hurt evident in her dearest friend's eyes was agonizingly evident. Within moments the spark in his eyes that was always present when Alanna entered the room was extinguished and he stepped back from the dancing pair. "Your highness," he said with a bow before turning around.

George could almost hear is heart cry out in pain after Jon's last comment. As much as he had hoped against hope that it was not true, it seemed that Jon and Alanna were something more than knight-master and squire after all. It hurt, that Alanna could not seem to see just how much he loved her. While he would not ask Alanna to give herself to him, to have Jon say out loud the thoughts that had tortured George ever since Alanna became the Prince's squire was more than even his crooked heart could take. Looking for one last moment at Alanna, his beautiful best friend and love, George bowed shortly to the Prince before turning to leave.

Jon turned back to Alanna with a smug smile. Seeing his expression, Alanna could hardly contain her fury. "What was all that?" she snapped.

"Gentle lady, please pay no attention to him. It's best you didn't hear our exchange, it was not for a delicate lady such as yourself to be subjected to."

"What makes you think you can tell George you are sleeping with you Squire, Your Highess?"

Jon's eyes widened. "How?" He paused as recognition dawned in his blue eyes. "Alanna?"

"I have put up with your womanizing long enough, Jonathan of Conte, and I'll have you know that I am no palace whore. In case you have forgotten, I am a royal squire, heiress of Trebond, and a noble lady with bluer blood than most of the court tramps you fall into bed with on a daily basis."

"Some lady, who spends her days in pants pretending to be a man!" Jon shot back cruelly, but words from him that would have hurt Alanna only an hour before now fell only on deaf ears.

"I'm lady enough to know better that to socialize with men like you, who use woman only to ruin their reputations a few weeks later when they are no longer amused. Good night, Jonathan on Conte, I'll face you on another floor tomorrow and make you pay for insinuating things about my personal life." Grabbing her skirts Alanna spun away from the Prince, who was looking more than a little stunned, and rush out after George, trying to find the retreating thief through a room full of twirling dancers. Not for naught, however, had Alanna spent the last six years finding every short cut and hidden passage in the palace to make her trips between classes as short as possible. Ducking behind a nearby curtain she set off through a servants passage that paralleled the dance floor, knowing she could make it to the ballroom exit closest to the city fastest this way, and hoping she could intercept George along the way.


	3. Chapter 3

Here is chapter 3, sorry for the delay. Thank you so much for everyone who has reviewed, you have really given me the encouragement to continue this story. I have forgotten the usual stuff about all this belongs to Mrs. Pierce, but it does. Please continue to review if you like how this is going. If you don't like it, remember this is fanfiction and while I try to stay true to the characters, I really don't like Jon and so make him somewhat of a jerk in this story. I don't think there is nearly enough George/Alanna fics out there, so sorry if I bash Jon a bit. He is kind of a jerk. Also, this happens when Alanna is a squire, but don't try and actually fit it in a timeline. I just thought it was a neat idea.

Thanks for your reviews, enjoy chapter 3!

George knew it was cliché, but it really did feel like his heart was breaking. He had known for some time that Jon came first in Alanna's heart, but the thief could not help but hope that maybe one day Alanna would realize how much more she meant to the thief than the prince. Jonathan's words, however, had done what months of Alanna's cold shoulder could not. Admitting defeat had never come easily for George, but ceaselessly running headlong into what appeared to be a brick wall had never been something George liked to do either. Perhaps, in the face of overwhelming evidence, it was time to admit that his feelings for a certain fiery squire were entirely one sided.

"It's not like you to give up so easily," a low alto voice spoke from the shadows. The usually bustling palace corridor was emptied because of the ball, all the normal servants and nobles having abandoned the corridor leaving it cold and dark. A slight figure stepped out from behind a tapestry. "George, I –"

"You don't have to say anything, Alanna." George's hazel eyes were dim. It startled Alanna to see the normally charming thief so lifeless. With a slight nod the thief continued down the corridor. Alanna watched him go, her purple eyes swimming in tears. She had really thought that George had cared for her more than that. The green silk wrapping her from neck to toe seemed to suggest that the thief harbored some deeper feelings for her, but it was hard to believe that when he had given up so quickly in the face of Jonathan's words.

Alanna watched the retreating figure, "I always thought he would fight for me."

The diminishing footsteps of the thief suddenly stopped. Alanna looked up, she had thought he was too far away to hear what she had said to the shadows. George began to walk back towards her, his formerly slumped frame suddenly stiff with what looked like anger. "Fight for you? " George stopped just short of Alanna, his boots brushing the hem of her skirt. "Alanna, I have been fighting for you since you dropped in my window and told me your secret. But a man can only take so much, and I can see when I no longer have the upper hand. I hadn't thought you were the type of court lady to play with a man's heart like this, but if you want to be with Jon, be with Jon, but you can't keep me hanging like this forever. Yes, I though there was something here, but I'm done being played, my Lady. Your court games are too much for a simple city boy like myself."

Alanna's eyes sparked in fury. It was not like her to go off chasing people down to express her feelings, and the betrayal she felt at George's words cut her deeper than any sword. George was her best friend. To see the hurt and anger in his eyes caused by Jon now pointed at her was more than she could handle. "Curse you, George! Why would you listen to anything Jon says over my word?"

"Because why would he lie to me about this?"

"Because he's an arrogant toe rag and you know it! You're my best friend!"

George stepped back, "I would listen to Jon because he doesn't lie about being my friend and then stab me in the back."

"Maybe you just missed the exchange in there, George, but I'm pretty sure that's what he just did!"

A silence stretched between the two dark figures standing together in the hall. George was conflicted, his heart dying to believe that Alanna was telling the truth, but his head telling him that Alanna had never cared for him the same way he cared for her, and that to avoid any more damage to his heart or his pride he had better stop while he was ahead. Alanna was also conflicted. On one hand she wanted to hit George in the face for being so stupid, on the other she could see how her seeming indifference over the course of their friendship would lead the thief to believe she truly thought him no more than a friend. _It would certainly make my life easier_, she thought, as all women have though, _if he could just read my mind._

Alanna continued to stare into George's hazel eyes, waiting for the thief to say or do something. The moments stretched on until she though George would have to break the silence, but still the thief just stood there. As the candles flickered in the corridor a sudden thought came to Alanna. George had been making the first move their entire friendship. He had caught her attention in the market her first day in the city. He had first smiled at her with that certain sparkle in his eye. He had flirted with her, charmed her, given her flowers on Midsummer's Day, and yet she had always done nothing. She had returned his first charming smile with a shocked, blank expression. She had responded to his charm with all the grace of a cow. And the flowers she had neglected to water, watching them wither away on her nightstand, too afraid to let her fellow squire's see that she had flowers in her room. For years she had failed to respond appropriately to his overtures, selfishly just hoping they would continue without any encouragement from her end. In a heartbeat it suddenly became clear how she could end this stalemate.

"George?" she whispered.

The thief continued to stare at her, offering no help despite the internal struggle he could see playing out on her face.

"George, Jon and I…" The thief's heart contracted, hardening itself for the blow. "Jon and I are nothing more than knight-master and squire, prince and subject, friend and friend. You have to believe that."

"Why should I believe that? What evidence have you given me to show me that?"

Alanna hesitated. She had to admit, her evidence was scarce. She had never responded to his flirtations, to his few pecks she had responded with anger. Even she had to admit that she did not give off the impression of deeper feelings. In her defense, she thought bitterly, royal pages and squires were not exactly taught how to accept flowers or respond to flirtations. They were expected to be the ones laying on the over-the-top compliments, not accepting them. She would feel like a fool expressing her feelings in words. She felt that even if she had spent her whole life in a convent, she would still not be able to express herself with any grace. Still, one things royal pages and squires were taught was something she had picked up with little skill, but had found herself enjoying the hour before. She stepped back from the thief, fanned her skirts out and straightened her cap. Looking George in the eye, she sunk into a deep curtsey, will power alone holding her normally wobbling stance upright. George looked at her in surprise.

The moments seemed to stretch on, much too long for Alanna who was not used to holding such a pose, before enlightenment dawned in the thief's eye. With a raised eye he returned her curtsey with a polite bow. Daring to smile slightly at George's response, Alanna briefly closed her eyes in concentration. Slowly a gentle music began to float down the corridor, the purple of Alanna's magic carrying the notes from the distant ballroom. Opening her eyes, Alanna was pleased to see that George had risen from his bow and had his hand out, waiting. Gently, Alanna placed her calloused hand in his. Almost as gently George put his free hand on the small of her back, his large hand easily encircling most of her waist. Slowing the two began to move with the music, Alanna'a feet moving with a grace she was not accustomed to on the dance floor, but somehow knowing the steps. No words were exchanged, for the moment they didn't need to be. Instead, the two let the music fill the hallway, wrapping them in notes that soothed away the hurtful words spoken that evening.

Unfortunately, musicians do from time to time take a break from playing, and after several dances the music ceased. The two figures slowly stopped revolving as the notes floated away. Alanna looked up into George's eyes. "I hope you can believe me, George."

The thief looked down at her. He knew deep down that one day he would have forgiven her for liking Jon, but it was so much better to admit that he was wrong, and that he and Alanna could, perhaps, be more than friends. "I believe you."

Alanna smiled. "Good, because otherwise I don't think I would have had the courage to do this." Slowing raising to her tiptoes, the small squire placed a gentle peck on the thief's cheek.

George's hazel eyes suddenly warmed, the extinguished spark reigniting. "Alanna," he whispered, "I don't know how much I believe you." Alanna grinned at the thief's audacity, but responded in kind, the time for hesitation long past. Wrapping her arms around his muscular form she placed her red lips on his, feeling a spark shoot through her body. The kiss deepened until the two had to take a break for air, at which point the thief stepped back and chuckled. "Well this is an interesting side-effect."

Alanna looked down at her body as the thief was, feeling her cheeks redden as she realized that she was glowing a deep amethyst. George put two fingers beneath her chin. "I hope that's a good sign." She smiled. "I think so. I've never had that happen before.

George laughed. "Wait until people find out I can make women literally glow with happiness." His smiled slowly faded. "I will wait Alanna. I'll wait as long as I need to," he promised.

Alanna nodded. "I know. I don't know how long it will take, but I do know that." Alanna looked at him sadly. As comfortable as she felt in George's arms, she knew it would be years before she would be able to relax in them again. A squire's life did not leave much room for loves in the city, especially not when the loved appeared to be the same sex as the squire. An errant knight's life was even less likely to include room for a relationship, at least initially. Knowing that anyway, it still felt wonderful to stand wrapped in George's arms, at least for this night. Pushing away thoughts of tomorrow when she would have to confront Jon and go back to pretending she was a boy trying for her knighthood, Alanna relaxed, as she so rarely allowed herself to do.


End file.
